


Patience

by JuliaJekyll



Series: Good Omens Two Shots [7]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Blow Jobs, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Experienced Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hand Jobs, Inappropriate Erections, M/M, Oral Sex, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:00:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21795715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuliaJekyll/pseuds/JuliaJekyll
Summary: Crowley gets aroused at a rather inopportune moment. Aziraphale notices and would like to be of assistance.Crowley, of course, can hardly say no.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Good Omens Two Shots [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1545001
Comments: 77
Kudos: 365





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [racketghost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/racketghost/gifts).



> Every time I think the well's run dry, I get a new idea for a Good Omens fic...though the inspiration for this one, I owe to Racketghost, whose fics reminded me how weak I am for desperately aroused Crowley. Thank you, Racketghost, for your service to the fandom.

  
Demons were patient. All supernatural entities were, really; at least, more so than humans. Humans could never wait for anything. Crowley supposed he didn't blame them; after all, when you had such a short time in which to get what you wanted, it made sense to want it as soon as you could conceivably get it. 

The last one hundred years in particular had seen so much change that it had been difficult even for Crowley to keep up with, and most of those changes had been based around speeding things up. You could see it everywhere, especially in a city like London. People rushed around on a dozen different kinds of transport and carried a dozen different devices around in their pockets, all of which functioned to get things done faster than had ever been possible before. There was a massive industry based around getting food to people quickly, and Crowley had seen quite a lot of fusses kicked up when something, anything, was perceived to be moving too slowly. 

Crowley didn't mind any of this, of course. Hell, he'd helped invent some of it, and he was of the opinion that it all made the world a generally better place to be; certainly it was a huge upgrade from the fourteenth century. It also made his job easier; the simpler it was to piss people off, the less work a demon had to do. However, even Crowley had to admit that the sea change in humanity that had made them lose all their patience was probably not altogether an advantage, at least not for them. When he thought about how patient people used to be, he couldn't help but marvel at the shift. 

Although. There was one thing humans had never, and likely would never, been patient for: sex. 

And that was why Crowley, a demon, had been quite alright hiding his burning, all-encompassing love for a certain angel for so long, but was hard-pressed to stop himself from going home and desperately masturbating almost every time he left him. 

This was the problem - well, one of the problems - with inhabiting a human body. Although demons, like angels, were technically sexless, human bodies were not, and that was a major pitfall for demons. From what Crowley had been given to understand over the years, angels could control their human bodies' sexuality in a way that demons couldn't. 

Lucky bastards. 

Crowley's human body wanted Aziraphale, carnally. His teeth wanted to sink themselves into the angel's neck, his hands wanted to feel every inch of the Aziraphale's body, his mouth craved contact with every bit of his skin, and the cock he'd been kitted out with upon reception of this body six thousand years ago wanted to rub itself off between Aziraphale's legs (regardless of what might, or might not, be down there) and spray millennia of arousal and longing all over him. 

And what his body wanted, Crowley wanted too.

He was entirely aware that these were wildly inappropriate thoughts to have about his best friend, but human bodies were persistent buggers, and so he had them nonetheless. 

His romantic feelings for the angel, painful though they sometimes were, were easy enough to hold back. To compartmentalise. To file away for the day when he'd finally tell him - just before Armageddon, he imagined, the last time he'd ever have a chance. But the sexual desire was, as the Americans liked to say, a whole different ballgame. 

No pun intended. 

Crowley adjusted the rearview mirror of the Bentley and drummed the fingernails of his left hand on the steering wheel. He wondered vaguely which fantasy he'd be bringing himself off to after this meeting with Aziraphale - the one where the angel let him suck his cock, maybe, or the one that involved Aziraphale's mouth on his- 

Fuck. No. Crowley squeezed his eyes shut for a second and gripped the wheel harder, forcing himself to think about something else before his cock, which was getting intrigued by this train of thought, could get properly hard. 

He thought about ducks. Swimming around in ponds like they did, eating bread. Quacking. Nothing sexually arousing about that. Angry with himself, Crowley sped up, as if by doing so he could put more distance between himself and his desires. 

The book, he remembered suddenly. He had a book for Aziraphale. He could think about that. There was nothing sexy about books. 

_Except when he's reading them, with those glasses on and those hands turning the pages, that smile he gets when he encounters some nice turn of phrase…_

"Fuck," he said out loud, trying to distract himself. "Have a little self-control, Anthony, for Hell's sake."

The book he had to give the angel was a battered third edition of Dickens's _Great Expectations_. Crowley had never read it - it was far too bloody long - but he remembered how excited people had gotten about it back when it had first come out. He'd found it at a secondhand bookshop in Brighton (what he'd been doing there in the first place was no one's business but his own) and bought it because he remembered Aziraphale mentioning that it was the only edition of the stupid book he didn't have. It had been rather expensive, but thankfully, supernatural entities didn't generally need to worry about money. 

_Books aren’t sexy. Dickens wasn’t sexy. Get a grip._

Crowley blew through a red light and hurtled down the street toward the bookshop. 

* * *

  
The shop was empty when Crowley showed up, holding the miraculously-wrapped book in his hands. “Hello?” he called out. “Angel, you here?” 

“Hello, Crowley! Would you like some coffee?” Aziraphale called back from the kitchen. 

“Coffee?” Crowley repeated. “Since when do you drink coffee?” 

“I don’t, dear, but _you_ do.” 

God. Satan. Ugh. Why did he have to be so _thoughtful_? 

“Sure,” Crowley said. “I’ll have some.” He headed for the kitchen at the back of the bookshop. 

“I do hope it’s the kind you like. There are so many different sorts. I puzzled over it in the shop for at least ten minutes.” 

“Why didn’t you just-” Crowley had been about to say _miracle it up,_ but the sight of Aziraphale stopped him in his tracks and nearly made him drop the book. 

Aziraphale was standing with his back to Crowley, placing a tea bag into a mug for himself, and he was _not_ wearing his usual outfit. 

The angel turned around and faced Crowley, smiling, and Crowley’s stupid human heart picked up speed, pounding in his ears, pushing his blood to the surface of his veins so that he could feel its heat. Aziraphale was wearing a pair of tailored black slacks and a charcoal grey cardigan over a white shirt and a light blue tie - not a bow tie, a regular one. He looked bloody _appetising_. 

“Uh-” Crowley stammered, face warming up, hands flexing on the spine of the book. He cleared his throat. “You, er, you look...different, angel. What’s the occasion? I mean, is there an occasion?” _Other than trying to make me hard._

And succeeding, he realised. _Fuck fuck fuck._ He leaned against the wall, crossing one leg over the other in a way he hoped looked casual. “You’ve really, uh, switched it up today.” 

“Oh, I just thought I’d try something different. One of my regulars gave me this tie to thank me for letting him have a look at my first edition Jane Austens - with gloves on, obviously - and it would hardly have been appropriate to wear with my normal outfits, so I got this one.” He smoothed the cardigan with his hands. “Does it look alright?” 

Crowley coughed. “Oh. Yes. It suits you.” 

Aziraphale smiled and turned back to the coffee. Crowley took the opportunity to adjust his trousers. 

“Here’s your coffee, dear,” Aziraphale said, handing it over. 

Crowley shoved the book under his arm and reached out to accept the mug. “Thanks.” His hand shook as he sipped it, barely noticing what it tasted like. 

“What’ve you got there?” Aziraphale asked, nodding toward the book. 

_Right. Books. Dickens. Not sexy. Nothing erection-inducing about that_ , Crowley thought desperately, legs still crossed, cock still hard. _Come on, you bastard, settle down._ He put the coffee cup on the table without moving his feet and extended the book toward Aziraphale. “It’s for you,” he said. 

“Oh, how lovely! Thank you,” Aziraphale said, taking the book and turning it over in his hands. “What’s this for?” 

Crowley shrugged. “Saw it and thought of you"

“Well, let’s see,” Aziraphale said. A letter-opener appeared in his hand, and he sliced the wrapping paper clean through. 

Crowley rolled his eyes. “You know, you could just rip it off,” he remarked. 

Aziraphale ignored him and took the book out of the paper. “Oh, Dickens! I do so love this book.” He opened it, and his mouth fell open when he saw the title page. “It’s a third edition!” He looked back at Crowley with wide eyes. “This was the only edition I didn’t have!” 

“I know. You said so,” said Crowley, who was trying very hard to resist the urge to press his thighs together, to get a bit of friction on his dick. The arousal was unbearable, and it _wasn’t going away._

“You remembered that?” Aziraphale’s eyes went soft, and he looked at Crowley as if he’d just done something incredibly kind. 

Crowley rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Yes, of course,” he replied, adjusting his stance again. His cock was _pressing_ against the front of his trousers, and it _had_ to be visible. God, those _eyes_...Aziraphale would kill him with those eyes of his one day. _Don’t look down, don’t look down._

“Oh, Crowley…” Aziraphale said, and before Crowley could see it coming, he stepped forward and threw his arms around him. Instinctively, Crowley put his foot back on the floor to keep his balance, and his cock pressed into Aziraphale’s hip. 

Aziraphale froze. Crowley froze. His eyes fell shut. There was no way the angel hadn’t noticed. How in the world was he going to come back from this? 

“Oh,” Aziraphale said softly, and pulled out of the embrace. His eyes were rooted to Crowley’s crotch. 

“Uh, it’s-” Crowley stammered, crossing his legs again. Was there any way he could play this off? 

No. Definitely not. 

“I...I’m sorry, angel, it’s...I’m…” 

“You have an erection, dear boy.” 

Crowley could feel himself starting to tremble. He didn’t say a word. He couldn’t deny it, and he didn’t need to confirm it. 

Aziraphale cleared his throat. “I...I’d forgotten that demons...well, you’re not making an effort, are you?” 

Crowley shook his head, gritted his teeth. “Don’t need to,” he ground out. “It just - well.” He gestured helplessly. In six thousand years, he had never regretted Falling more than he did in this humiliating moment. 

Aziraphale was _still_ staring, and it was only making him harder. 

“Aziraphale, can we just-” 

“May I touch it?” 

Crowley's jaw nearly fell off his face. _"What?"_

Aziraphale dropped his eyes and clasped his hands together nervously. "I...find myself rather...fascinated. Angels don't...well, unless we will it, we don't…" he trailed off. 

"Aziraphale, I don't think you know what you're asking," Crowley said, barely keeping his voice from shaking. He was _so hard_ , and Aziraphale had just requested to touch his...he had never wanted to say yes to anything so much in his life. But if the angel touched him, he knew he'd fall apart. 

"I know what I'm asking," Aziraphale said quietly. "I know it's...sexual. And very personal. Of course, if you don't want-"

Crowley nearly bit through his tongue. "The problem isn't that I don't _want_ it," he admitted, his whole body tense. 

Aziraphale met his eyes, looking confused. 

Crowley sighed, resigned. No backing out now. "The problem is that I _really_ want it," he confessed, staring into Aziraphale's eyes, desperately hoping he wouldn't see disgust in them. 

His cock was absolutely throbbing. If Aziraphale didn't want to touch him anymore after that admission, he'd have to excuse himself so he could get it out of his trousers. 

Aziraphale's gaze flickered from Crowley's eyes to his crotch, and then back up to his eyes. Crowley saw his fingers flex. "I would like to...help you," he said. "If you don't mind."

"Angel." Crowley's voice cracked. He could feel his face burning. Amazing that it still didn't feel like any blood had been rerouted there from his cock.

Aziraphale stepped forward. Cautiously, he stretched out a hand. 

Satan help him, Crowley couldn't resist. He needed to be touched, or he'd lose his mind. 

Aziraphale looked into his eyes again, waiting for permission. Crowley gave a tight nod, and Aziraphale pressed his palm against his erection. 

Crowley hissed. He couldn't help it; he pushed forward into the angel's palm, needing more, needing as much as he could get. His reservations were out the window after that touch; he couldn't stop now if he wanted to. 

Aziraphale moved his hand, rubbing him, squeezing him. Crowley moaned. 

"That's good?" Aziraphale asked, sounding genuinely curious. 

"Angel, you've no idea." Crowley's head hit the wall as he threw it back, pressing his hips further forward. "Oh, fuck." 

"Do you need me to…?" Aziraphale gestured at Crowley's fly with his free hand. 

"Yes, _please_."

Aziraphale clicked his tongue. "I really don't understand why you wear these dreadfully restrictive trousers." With that, he unbuttoned and unzipped the trousers in question, then reached his hand into Crowley's pants to wrap around his cock directly. 

_"Angel."_ Crowley squeezed his eyes shut, sure that if he looked, and saw that Aziraphale was the one doing this, that the being he'd wanted for thousands of years was the one who currently had a hand on his penis, he'd either come or discorporate, and he wasn't sure which would be worse. 

"That's it, dear," Aziraphale said softly, beginning to stroke him lightly. "Feeling better?"

"Mmph." Crowley hoped that was coherent enough. Aziraphale's hand on him felt unbelievably good. Unbearably good. 

_Too_ good. Downright _skillful_. 

"You've... you've done this before," he said, eyes still shut, head still against the wall. He wanted to come. He wanted to fuck Aziraphale's fist until he came, wanted to explode all over his hand…

"Yes, of course, dear, but never with you," Aziraphale replied, speeding up his strokes. 

The point of no return was approaching. Crowley opened his eyes. Aziraphale was watching his hand intently, focused on pleasuring Crowley. Crowley bit his lip. "Angel, if you keep doing that, I'm going to come, and if you don't want that, you should probably stop now." 

"Whyever would I not want that? I'm sure it'll be very rewarding to bring you to orgasm, dear."

Fuck. 

Crowley moaned low in his throat and thrust. The drag of Aziraphale's hand satisfied his craving for touch, his need for stimulation. "Oh, angel, please, please…"

"That's it, my dear... has anyone ever told you you look quite fetching when you're being sexually stimulated? I'm quite glad you let me do this…"

"Ohhh…" Crowley was so close. He looked at Aziraphale, the subject of his fantasies for so long, wanking him off, and felt a rush of love for him. 

_God, I want to kiss him. If I could just kiss him…_

The thought of kissing the angel, combined with the continued friction, pushed him over the edge. He came on Aziraphale's hand, a few drops hitting the floor as well, and continued to rub himself against the angel's fist until he let go, at which point Crowley sagged against the wall, panting and more sexually satisfied than he'd ever been. 

Aziraphale used a dish towel to wipe the mess off his hand, then drew closer to Crowley, who stared at him, forgetting to feel embarrassed even though his trousers were still open and his cock was still out, even though he'd just come standing up in his best friend's hand, in a bookshop that could be walked into at any time.

"I...that was…" He had no words to describe how it had been. 

Aziraphale smiled. "It was fascinating. You're _very_ responsive. I must admit, it was quite nice to see that side of you." He dragged his teeth over his lower lip, and Crowley felt his blood stir in his groin even though he'd just come not a minute ago. 

"Angel…" What could he say after something so utterly unprecedented, so unexpected? How could he get things back to anything resembling normal? He desperately hoped that this wouldn't be a one-time thing, but even if it was...Satan, was he glad to have had it. 

"Thank you for letting me do it," Aziraphale said, placing the soiled dish towel in the wash basket. "I enjoyed it."

"I...enjoyed it too. Obviously." He laughed weakly. "Maybe...maybe you'll let me do it for you sometime?" 

Ugh, why had he said that? Stupid, stupid... Aziraphale was an angel, he wouldn't want-

"The next time I'm in the mood to make the effort," Aziraphale said, his smile taking a distinct turn for the sly, "I shall be sure to let you know."

Crowley swallowed. He couldn't reply beyond a fierce nod. He really hoped Aziraphale would be in the mood _soon_. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley returns the favour.

Aziraphale examined his erection dispassionately, careful not to touch it lest he find himself unable to stop. He hadn’t ejaculated in months, and he didn’t plan to do so again until Crowley’s hands (or mouth? Dare he even hope for such a thing?) were on him. 

He’d managed to get himself hard by imagining precisely that - Crowley on his knees, sucking him off, looking up at him with those golden eyes. Crowley wrapping firm fingers around his cock, pumping slowly but confidently. Crowley watching as Aziraphale came, his strong, slender hand coated in ejaculate. 

Aziraphale bit his lip as he struggled to hold himself back. He had to at least ask Crowley. If the demon wasn’t interested, then he could do it himself, but what was the point of making the effort if he was going to be too much of a coward to ask? 

The memory of holding Crowley’s swollen cock in his hand, hearing him pant and moan, watching him lose control...Aziraphale had revisited it again and again over the couple of weeks since it had happened. He had told Crowley that he’d let him know the next time he wanted to make an effort himself. So he had to do it. He had to tell him. 

_I do hope he likes my penis,_ Aziraphale thought, running an appraising eye over the penis in question. _I suppose it’s on the thicker side; I wonder whether that’s to his taste? It would certainly be a shame if it wasn’t, as it’s the only penis I’ve got._

Aziraphale looked around the bookshop, putting Crowley out of his mind for a moment so that his erection would subside enough to allow him to put his trousers back on. As soon as he was once again fully clothed, he made his way across the shop to the phone.

It wasn’t until he picked up the receiver that Aziraphale realised his palms were sweaty. He was much more nervous about this than he’d been about asking Crowley whether he could give him a hand job. Perhaps it was because he’d put more thought into this. 

The phone rang three times before Crowley picked up. “Hello?” 

“Hello, Crowley. It’s Aziraphale.” 

“Oh, hi, angel. What’s going on?” 

“I was just wondering whether you’d like to come over and help me ejaculate.” 

There was silence for a few seconds, followed by a moment of confused sputtering. “Uh...you want me to help you...do _what_?” 

“Ejaculate, dear boy. Surely you recall that I told you I’d let you know the next time I wanted to make an effort. You know, after I gave you-”

“Yes. Yeah. I remember,” Crowley said. 

Sensing his friend’s bewilderment, Aziraphale backpedaled hurriedly. “Of course, if you’d rather not-”

“I’d rather so. I’d rather _yes_. I mean, I...yes, _yes_ , I want to help. Can I come over now?” 

“That would be ideal. I’m rather hard already; I believe hearing your voice has done something...Crowley?” 

The line had gone dead. Evidently the demon was already on his way. 

So much the better, Aziraphale thought. It was getting difficult to resist touching himself. He sat back down in his desk chair to wait. 

Crowley didn’t keep him waiting long. It was barely five minutes before he all but kicked the door down. “Angel?” he called into the shop, voice cracking. 

“In here, dear.” 

Crowley was panting and sweating when he came into the back room. His eyes went immediately to Aziraphale’s crotch. “I’m here. Right. Alright. Sorry, are you still…” he swallowed. His eyes were wild. 

“Do relax, dear boy; I can assure you that my effort is still very much intact. Did you close the door?” 

“The…” Crowley appeared not to understand the word. 

“The door to the shop, darling.” 

“Oh. Door. Right. Closing.” Crowley turned around and bolted for the door. Aziraphale heard a slam and a click, and then the demon returned. 

“Thank you,” Aziraphale said pleasantly. “Now, do come over here.” 

Crowley took a few steps in Aziraphale’s direction. He was wringing his hands and staring at the space between Aziraphale’s legs. Aziraphale saw him swallow. “Dear, are you quite alright?” the Principality asked.

Crowley made a huffing noise that sounded almost like an incredulous laugh. “You ask me to come over here and wank you off, and then you ask if I’m _alright_?” 

“Well, yes! You seem nervous.” 

“I’m bloody terrified, angel.” 

Aziraphale was taken aback. “But why? I thought you’d be pleased!” 

“I _am_ pleased!” Crowley sank onto the sofa and took off his sunglasses. “I want this! I’m just...well, I guess I’m worried I’ll do it wrong.” 

“Oh, Crowley, believe me, there’s no need to worry about that.” Aziraphale smiled and came to sit beside him. For the first time since he’d arrived at the shop, Crowley looked him in the eyes. 

Aziraphale reached for Crowley’s hand. “Do you know how I got this erection?” 

“Er…” 

“I thought about that day. The day you let me bring you to orgasm. The day you trusted me with the most sensitive part of your corporation. I enjoyed that more than I think you realise. And I’d love for you to do the same for me.” 

Crowley stared at Aziraphale for a moment, and then his eyes flickered back down to the angel’s crotch. “Can I…?” 

“Please. I’m a bit uncomfortable.” 

Crowley’s hands were shaking as he undid the clasp on Aziraphale’s trousers and unzipped them. He pushed them clumsily halfway down Aziraphale’s thighs and gently stroked the outline of Aziraphale’s cock through his underwear with his fingertips. “Oh,” he said softly. 

Aziraphale leaned back to give Crowley better access, until his back touched the arm of the sofa. The fleeting touch of Crowley’s fingers increased his arousal, and he had to bite his lip to stop himself from telling Crowley to grab him properly. He would let the demon take his time. 

“Angel, can I kiss it?” Crowley’s voice was hoarse and husky. 

“Of...of course,” Aziraphale said. He watched, enraptured, as Crowley leaned forward and brushed his lips over him through his underwear. 

“Oh, Crowley…” 

“Can I take them off?” 

“Oh, God, yes.” 

Crowley pulled Aziraphale’s underwear down as though he were uncovering something precious. Aziraphale felt a flicker of nervousness when Crowley’s eyes first fell on his penis, but the demon looked fascinated. His mouth fell open a little, and Aziraphale stared at his parted lips, wishing he’d place them on his cock. 

“Crowley, if you would…” 

“Yessss.” Crowley reached out and grasped Aziraphale’s erection in his hand. “How do you like it, angel?” 

“S-slow at first,” Aziraphale said. “Squeeze a bit harder, please...slower still...ah, that’s the ticket. Keep that up for a bit.” 

Crowley’s grip was firm, but his face was softer than Aziraphale had seen it in quite a while. He was watching Aziraphale’s cock slip through his fingers as though he’d never seen anything so lovely. Aziraphale felt himself blush. To think, he’d been worried that Crowley wouldn’t be pleased with him. 

“A-a bit faster, dear,” Aziraphale panted. Crowley’s hand sped up. Aziraphale moaned. Watching Crowley service him was incredibly satisfying. He was so hard that he wasn’t sure how he could be any more aroused, but every moment of watching the demon take care of him made his desire spike. “Ah, yes, that feels good….” 

“Aziraphale.” Crowley looked into his eyes. “You’re gorgeous, angel. You’re so bloody gorgeous. Oh, Satan, I want to make you come. I want to make you come _hard_. I want to suck your cock. Can I, please?” 

“Oh, gracious, yes!” Aziraphale cried. No sooner had he said it than Crowley’s mouth was tracing over his erection, his tongue licking at him obscenely. 

“Ohhhh,” Aziraphale groaned. 

“Don’t stop making that noise,” Crowley demanded. “Keep it up. Let me hear you.” With that, he sealed his mouth over Aziraphale’s cock. 

The wet, heavy stimulation quickly reduced Aziraphale to a babbling mess. The sight of Crowley’s red hair in his lap of all places was so unspeakably beautiful that he wouldn’t have been able to keep his moans inside even if Crowley hadn’t explicitly told him he wanted to hear them. “Yes, Crowley, your mouth feels amazing...oh, I imagined this, you know. I thought about how this would feel. I wanted it...oh, God, I wanted it, but I didn’t think...oh, _darling_!” 

Crowley licked him from bottom to top, then began to suck him again. Aziraphale reached out for something to grab onto and ended up with his left hand clutching the sofa cushion and his right tangled in Crowley’s hair. “Oh, darling! Yes! I’m going to come in a moment...nearly there...Crowley, _yes_!” 

Aziraphale exploded in Crowley’s mouth, and the demon didn’t move. He sucked down Aziraphale’s come, then continued lapping at him until Aziraphale was quivering from over-sensitivity. 

“That...was fantastic,” he said, as Crowley pulled back and straightened up, wiping his mouth on his wrist. 

A slight smirk came over Crowley’s face and he took a mock bow. “Thank you, thank you. Bet you’ve never been tongued like that before.” He swept his unnaturally flexible tongue over his lips. Now that he’d made Aziraphale come, his nervousness seemed to have vanished. 

“Indeed I haven’t,” Aziraphale agreed with a smile, liking Crowley’s confident tone. He sat up, putting his cock back into his pants and zipping his trousers back up. “Thank you,” he said. 

Crowley’s eyes darkened. “There’s another way you can thank me.” 

“Oh?” 

Crowley reached out and grabbed Aziraphale’s hand. He pulled the angel close, and Aziraphale realised what he wanted. He nodded to show his consent, and Crowley pressed his hand to his crotch. 

Inside his tight trousers, Crowley’s cock was so hard that Aziraphale was sure it must be painful. He tightened his fingers, and Crowley immediately thrust into his hand. “Already close, angel, ‘m right on the edge...watching you get off really did it for me. Just hold it, yeah? Tighter, let me.. _.oh, fuck, yes_.” He bucked his hips a few more times, then stiffened and collapsed against Aziraphale, going limp. They stayed like that for a moment, an angel and a demon, tired out from sexual exertion. 

Crowley was the first to move. He picked himself up off Aziraphale and smiled thinly. “I think I need to miracle myself some new pants.” 

Aziraphale laughed. “Perhaps next time you’ll take them off first.” 

Crowley’s expression became more serious. “Do you reckon there’ll be a next time?” 

“I would like there to be.” Aziraphale reached out to place one hand on top of Crowley’s. “I’m rather interested to know what you taste like as well.” 

Crowley looked stunned for a moment, but then he grinned. “I’ll just alert you the next time I get an inappropriate erection, shall I?” 

“Dear, it will hardly be inappropriate if you’re around me.” 

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this fic, please let me know, either through kudos or a comment (or both!) 
> 
> You can also visit my Tumblr at julia-writes-fanfic.tumblr.com.


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